


good, best

by dollsome



Category: The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-01
Updated: 2018-12-01
Packaged: 2019-09-05 07:50:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16806478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dollsome/pseuds/dollsome
Summary: Susie visits Midge at work, and banter ensues. (Really, when does it not?)





	good, best

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt "Midge/Susie, putting up holiday decorations" from queenofattolia over on Tumblr. :)

Midge is in the middle of stringing tinsel along the counter at B. Altman when she hears a familiar voice.

“Yeah, uh, I’d like to speak to Miriam. She gets my … tones.”

“Your tones?” Trudy, the newest makeup counter girl, asks in bafflement.

“Yeah, you know. The tones of my face or some shit.”

“Um,” says Trudy.

“Miss Myerson,” Midge says smoothly, hurrying over, “so nice to see you again. We’re good here; thanks, Trudy.”

Trudy scurries away gladly.

Susie surveys the store, which has become a very seasonal vision of fir trees and lights and wreaths and ornaments. “Jesus Christ. It looks like Kris Kringle threw up in here.”

“It’s not exactly my scene either,” Midge says wryly. “But it turned out pretty, don’t you think? We’ve been working on it all morning. They got professionals to do the window displays, but for the makeup counter, it’s up to us girls.”

Susie shrugs. “Sure. Pretty. If you’re into being aggressively punched in the face by holiday cheer--Oh, God, I just noticed the reindeer. It officially looks like Kris Kringle had it coming out of both ends.”

“I’ll make sure to pass that along to Mrs. O’Toole. And hey, don’t say Kris Kringle too loud. Vivian’s convinced she’s fallen in love with the department store Santa. We’re all hoping that one passes quick.”

“Eesh.”

“Tell me about it. So, what’s up?”

Susie pauses for effect, her eyes gleaming with pride, then announces, “You’re on tonight at that shitty club.”

“Which shitty club?”

“That shitty club.”

“The one that wouldn’t book me, so you said, ‘Good riddance, who needs ‘em? Not us. We don’t need that shitty club’-- _ that  _ shitty club?”

“The very same shitty club. Scheduled comic canceled, they called me, you’re on at eleven.”

“Great.” Midge beams. “That shitty club it is.”

“That shitty club it is,” Susie echoes, beaming back.

They just smile stupidly for a minute, reveling in the little triumph.

“You know,” Midge says, “if you keep coming in here and not buying anything, they’re going to think you and I are into some really shady business. They’ll start calling us the Revlon bandits.”

“Ooh, terrifying.”

“Hey. I’ve got an upstanding-makeup-counter-girl reputation to maintain.”

“Fine. Give me the cheapest thing you’ve got.”

Midge considers the counter, then points at a lipstick.

“ _ That’s  _ the cheapest thing you’ve got?” Susie says in horror, setting eyes on the price tag.

Midge laughs. “Tell you what, I’ll let it slide this time. But only if you help me finish hanging the tinsel.”

“Well, okay,” Susie says with an air of great self-sacrifice.

They set to work, Midge at one edge of her assigned stretch of counter and Susie at the other. They don’t talk, but it’s the kind of not talking where it doesn’t feel like anything is missing. It’s nice, Midge decides. It’s a feeling she never thought she’d have again, after everything with Joel. Sure, it’s strange that said feeling came again in the form of the tiny, terrifying woman who’s on a quest to make her a comedy star, but Midge is learning to take good things wherever she finds them. It’s better, she’s starting to suspect, than always striving for the perfect picture in her head. Perfect always leaves something out.

A formidable “ _ Ahem _ ” interrupts the quiet. Midge looks up to see Mrs. O’Toole. “I wasn’t aware we were enlisting customers to do our work for us, Miriam.” Her gaze flicks to Susie. “Unless you’re some kind of … hired help.”

Susie grimaces at her. That's all she does, which is a testament to how much she understands that Midge loves this job.

“Oh, no, Mrs. O’Toole,” Midge says angelically. “She’s just a friend who dropped by.”

“A friend,” Mrs. O’Toole repeats, narrowing her eyes.

“A good friend. A best friend, really.”

Mrs. O’Toole’s stare offers no mercy.

“...who’s going to be buying a whole new face’s worth of products any minute now,” Midge relents.

“Good,” Mrs. O’Toole says crisply, then moves along.

“Really smooth,” Susie deadpans.

“I panicked, okay?”

“I can’t blame you there. That broad is scary. You should use that onstage.”

“Let’s get to that once I’ve survived my shift.”

Midge mimes pulling a bunch of products off the shelf without actually grabbing any, then fills an empty bag artfully with red and gold tissue paper and passes it over the counter. “Thank you so much, Miss Myerson. Happy holidays. Come again soon.”

“Wow,” mutters Susie. ”Almost as convincing as all that ‘good friend, best friend’ crap.”

“That wasn’t crap,” Midge protests, offended.

“Sure it was.”

“Hey. You booked me at that shitty club. What is that if not an act of good best friend-ship?”

“Good business hustle.”

“Sure, sure,” Midge says. “See you tonight, good friend best friend.”

Susie wrinkles her nose, but Midge spots the flash of a smile on her face just before she turns to go.


End file.
